A Teacher of Love Page 8

  “I agree with you, but when his Lordship makes up his mind about anything, I can promise you that there is no chance of persuading him to change it.”

  “I am afraid it will shake him to find that a woman has succeeded with his sons where three men have failed. You must admit that the boys are quite different now. For the last three days Peter has been reading a book he found on the campaigns of the Duke of Wellington.”

  Mr. Seymour smiled.

  “That is your doing, Miss Wicke. They had both sworn never to read a book again before you arrived.”

  “He became interested in the book after I told them all about the Battle of Waterloo and the number of horses involved. Then, of course, I told them how the poor horses had suffered in the retreat from Moscow.”

  “Horses! Horses!” Mr. Seymour exclaimed. “But I have to acknowledge, Miss Wicke, that I never imagined it would be possible to make two boys, who were so against any learning, as keen as you have now made them.”

  “They are each adding every day to the exhibition they are assembling in the library.”

  Mr. Seymour laughed.

  “The curator almost had a major stroke at seeing his precious books lying all over the place. He was terrified in case the boys had damaged one of them.”

  “They are quite safe. It is far more important for us to worry about Peter and Simon than about books. At the same time they are serving a good purpose.”

  “I do agree, and I had no idea that they had so many pictures in them. As I said to Mrs. Donaldson last night, there is enough fuss about horses in this house for us to put on a Horse Show all of our own!”

  Tasia clapped her hands together.

  “You are right, Mr. Seymour. That is exactly what we will do when we go to the country.”

  She paused for a moment and then added,

  “That is if his Lordship allows us. But surely he will understand? If we can have a Horse Show for the locals, with the boys helping in the organisation, then they would be in their element.”

  “I don’t know what his Lordship would – ”

  “It would be new and exciting,” Tasia interrupted, “and the boys would be thrilled at the prospect.”

  Mr. Seymour gave a cry of protest.

  “You are going too fast, Miss Wicke! It would be a mistake to raise the young gentlemen’s hopes. I am quite certain that his Lordship will not want anything of the sort to happen at Linsdale Court.”

  Tasia sighed.

  “I suppose that I am expecting miracles, but I have an uncomfortable feeling that they will be spirited away by a strong northerly wind that will sweep me out too.”

  “No! No!” he cried. “I cannot allow that.”

  Tasia realised, even though he sounded so positive, that Mr. Seymour had no real power.

  Everything depended on the Earl himself.

  *

  Monsieur de Galet, the Préfet of Marseilles, was thanking the Earl of Linsdale profusely.

  “I am more grateful to you, my Lord, than I could possibly express,” he gushed, “and I shall never forget your kindness and help which will mean a great deal not only to me but to Marseilles.”

  “I am so glad to have been of assistance,” the Earl responded. “It was so lucky we were able to find the right people at the right moment to put the plan into operation.”

  “It was all due to you, my Lord.”

  Then as he rose to say goodbye, the Préfet added a little hesitantly,

  “Could I please ask your Lordship one last favour? You must forgive me if it will cause any inconvenience.”

  “What is it? I will help if I possibly can.”

  “I know that your Lordship is returning to England, and my friend the Comte de Baptiste and his wife have an appointment in your country.”

  The Earl stiffened, as he knew what was coming.

  “Would you be kind enough,” the Préfet requested, “to take them back with you in your very fine yacht?”

  It was impossible for the Earl to refuse.

  He merely said that, of course, he would be delighted to welcome the Comte and Comtesse as his guests.

  When he came to make his final farewell, the Préfet overwhelmed the Earl with gratitude and flattery.

  The Earl then drove through the crowded streets to the Port, where his yacht, the Minerva, was waiting for him and ready to put to sea.

  It annoyed him considerably that he had to wait for his guests to be fetched from well outside Marseilles.

  The Earl enjoyed being at sea, but, when he was on his travels, he preferred being alone.

  On this visit to the South of France he had found himself involved in diplomatic problems as well as certain scientific matters he was interested in.

  He was extremely intelligent and often in demand in Europe, as well as being a tower of strength to the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.

  But he always disliked a crowd.

  He travelled whenever it was possible in his yacht and there he could be alone in the evenings and not have to make polite conversation to anyone.

  Now he thought with a sinking heart that he would undoubtedly have some aged diplomat and his boring wife croaking at him over dinner.

  Alternatively she would be seasick and he would have to talk to her elderly husband alone.

  It was a prospect that the Earl did not relish. He had always thought that diplomats talked far too much, whilst not saying anything worth listening to.

  He preferred the company of the scientific experts, who were used to not being understood and therefore quite content to remain silent!

  When he was piped aboard, he told the Captain of the Minerva that they unfortunately could not put to sea at once until two guests arrived.

  “Are we taking them back to England, my Lord?”

  “I am afraid so, Captain, and they will certainly not enjoy the journey if the sea is anything like it was when we came out.”

  The Captain laughed.

  “It was certainly a test for the Minerva, which came through, your Lordship must admit, with flying colours.”

  “She certainly did,” the Earl readily agreed.

  He went below to the Master cabin, which was large and comfortable with an adjoining sitting room.

  The walls were all lined with endless books and the writing desk occupied much of the floor.

  It was a place where he could be alone and where he could think and work without interruptions.

  Now he told his Chief Steward to accommodate his guests well away from his own cabin and to tell his valet, who had been with him for many years, that he would be expected to valet the male guest.

  He went into his sitting room and closed the door and then sat down to make notes of all that he had learned during his visit to France.

  He knew that they would be of great interest to the Prime Minister as well as the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs as soon as he returned to London.

  It was later, when his two guests joined the Minerva, that he realised they were not quite as he had anticipated.

  The Comte was even older than he had expected – he had to be helped on board as he was having trouble with his legs.

  He brought his valet with him who was apparently an experienced masseur and he was treating his Master’s infirmities.

  But the Comtesse certainly was a surprise.

  She was very much younger than her husband and the Earl thought she could not yet have reached thirty.

  She was petite and attractive and her dark flashing eyes, he noticed, opened wide at the sight of him.

  Because he was unusually handsome, the Earl was accustomed to the effect he had on women on first meeting. They tended to look at him first with surprise and then in undoubted appreciation.

  As the yacht moved out of the Port, the Earl asked his guests to join him for a glass of champagne.

  It was then obvious from the way the Comtesse was gazing at him that she had every intention of enjoying the voyage that lay a
head.

  Almost at once the Comte succumbed to the first movements of the sea and retired to his cabin.

  The Comtesse made it quite plain to the Earl that she was an exceptionally good sailor and had no intention of wasting any of the time she could be with him.

  The Earl was thus not surprised when, after they had dined alone and talked rather intimately, that the Comtesse joined him in the Master cabin.

  She was undoubtedly very French, very exotic and very experienced.

  The Earl was well aware that he was not the first man who had amused her during her husband’s disability.

  He found it quite impossible not to enjoy her as a woman, although her conversation was somewhat limited.

  At the same time she was exceedingly pretty and a past master at giving everything a double entendre.

  Therefore the voyage passed – on the whole – very pleasantly.

  When they were approaching Dover, where the Earl intended to disembark, the Comtesse asked with a pout of her red lips,

  “Shall we ever meet again, Leopold?”

  “Of course we will,” the Earl told her reassuringly. “Except that I am not often in London and am in fact going to the country as soon as I return home.”

  “And we will be leaving in another week – ”

  “I will let you know when I am next travelling to France,” the Earl promised her.

  For a moment her eyes lit up.

  “Perhaps it is a mistake, mon brave, to ask such of life. I have enjoyed this voyage more than I can tell you and I will never forget you – ”

  Her soft fingers touched his cheek as she added,

  “Au revoir, but I have the feeling it may be a very long time.”

  He kissed her goodbye as she expected to be kissed.

  Then, as they berthed at Dover, they said a formal farewell as her husband was helped down the gangway.

  When the couple finally disappeared into a carriage, the Earl gave a sigh of relief.

  “Well,” he murmured to the Captain, “that is the end of another voyage.”

  “Aye, aye, my Lord.”

  However he spoke too soon.

  To his astonishment, while he was still sitting in the Saloon, having decided to take a later train to London, the Comtesse reappeared.

  Thinking that she must have forgotten something, he rose to his feet.

  She swept into the Saloon looking a little flustered, but still most attractive.

  The Earl was aware once again of her strong and seductive scent that had been with him the previous nights.

  “I am asking for your help once again, mon brave.”

  She was talking to him in perfect English with only a slight accent.

  “We found a message saying my husband has to be in London tomorrow and we have no comfortable means of transport. Would you be kind enough to let us come in your special coach? I understand it is attached to the train leaving here in two hours time.”

  “You are right and most undoubtedly your husband would find it uncomfortable in what perhaps will be a most overcrowded train,” he responded.

  “That is exactly what I thought,” she agreed. “You are so kind and I knew that you would not refuse us.”

  There was nothing the Earl could do but take them into his private coach, which was always attached to any train he was travelling in.

  The comfort of English trains was most definitely improving, but anyone who was rich enough, including the Queen and the Prince of Wales, had a private coach of their own.

  The Earl’s had only two bedrooms, but they were not required, as the train would reach London at about ten-thirty in the evening.

  It was a long journey, but the Comte would surely be much more comfortable than he would have been as an ordinary passenger.

  The train then chugged out of Dover Station and the Comte went to sleep with his leg on a chair in front of him.

  The Comtesse sat close to the Earl and whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

  By imbibing quite a lot of excellent champagne he made the time pass quite pleasantly, but it was only as they reached London that the Earl suddenly realised that they had no reservation in any hotel.

  It was too late to go to their Embassy, which would not be expecting them.

  So there was nothing he could do but invite them to stay for the night in his house in Regent’s Park, where he knew there was a whole suite of State rooms empty.

  He had already sent an express telegram to his secretary, Mr Seymour, informing him that he expected to be home on Tuesday the 17th, hopefully in time for dinner, but warning him that bad weather might delay his return.

  He knew that Mr. Seymour would be waiting for him no matter what time he finally arrived. Mr. Seymour was used to the odd hours his master kept and sensible enough to check the weather forecast for any storms that could cause delay.

  The Earl supposed that, as it was a long time since there had been any guests in the house, there would be no difficulty in opening up two bedrooms for the Comte and Comtesse.

  Because the Earl was accustomed to having the best of everything, causing inconvenience to his household did not bother him.

  His finest carriage was waiting at the Station and although he was only two hours later than he had expected to be, he noticed that the coachman stifled a yawn.

  The Comtesse’s luggage and her husband’s valet travelled in another carriage.

  The Earl had already learnt aboard the Minerva that the Comtesse’s lady’s maid was waiting for her in London.

  She had therefore not bothered to bring one aboard the yacht for her.

  “Marie is invariably seasick from the moment she steps on board until the moment we reach terra firma,” she had said. “I therefore always send her ahead of me and my husband’s valet looks after me as best he can.”

  “I think that is very sensible,” concurred the Earl. “Most women are helpless unless the sea is very calm.”

  “Except me,” the Comtesse replied flirtatiously.

  “Yes, except you.”

  She looked up at him with an expression in her eyes, which he knew only too well, but he told himself he should be grateful.

  After all, he might have felt lonely on the voyage.

  He would be deluding himself if he had thought it had been anything more than an amusing affaire-de-coeur.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tasia learned that the Earl was expected to return in time for dinner, so she told Mr. Seymour that the boys had to wear proper evening clothes.

  “Do you really think it’s necessary, Miss Wicke?”

  “I think it is so important for them to realise that if they are going to dine with their father, it is a very special occasion. Just as he will change, they must do the same.”

  Mr. Seymour did not argue. He merely directed her to a shop in Regent Street where she could fit out the boys.

  They looked extremely smart in their long trousers and white shirts – and she insisted on double cuffs so that they were wearing cufflinks for the first time.

  As they dressed before dinner, she begged them to grease their hair and to make sure their hands were clean.

  They had a bath every day, but there were usually ink marks on Peter’s fingers and paint marks on Simon’s.

  They both had their presents ready for their father.

  At eight o’clock they started to look expectantly at the door.

  They were in the drawing room that had been made most attractive – there were vases of flowers everywhere that Tasia had urged Mrs. Donaldson to buy.

  “When his Lordship is in residence, he usually has them sent up from the country,” she had muttered.

  “I heard that, but now there is no time to bring them from there and I am sure he will think that the room looks bare without flowers.”

  Tasia put on one of her prettiest dresses and waited patiently with the boys.

  She knew, however, that she could not have dinner with them unless the Earl invited
her to do so.

  “I will dine upstairs,” she told them. “But I hope your father will ask to meet me. In which case I will come down to him.”

  “I expect Papa will be very surprised to see you,” said Peter. “We have never had a woman Tutor before.”

  “Well, I hope you will tell him you have enjoyed being with me – ”

  “We have! We have!” cried Simon.

  For the last week or two Tasia had been going into their bedrooms to say goodnight when they were in bed.

  She thought she should, not only because she was in charge of them, but also because she had always wanted her mother and Nanny to say goodnight to her before blowing out the candles.

  It was Simon who had first put out his arms to her as she said her customary ‘goodnight’ and when she had bent towards him, he kissed her.

  “We’ve had a lovely day today, Miss Wicke, and it is great fun being with you.”

  “I am glad you think so, Simon, and I very much enjoy being with both of you.”

  She had then paused before she added,

  “Tomorrow I have a plan to do something you have never done before.”

  Simon gave a hoot of delight and kissed her cheek again.

  “I will be guessing all night what it is.”

  “It’s a secret until tomorrow!”

  She pulled the sheet up close to his neck.

  “Goodnight and God bless you and may the angels look after you.”

  It was what her mother had always said to her and she felt that it was the right feeling to leave in the bedroom.

  It was the next night that Peter had kissed her too and after that both boys always kissed her goodnight.

  When the two boys had done something really well, they hugged her.

  ‘What they both need,’ she reflected, ‘is love. All children miss love when it is not there.’

  When she went to bed, she prayed that when she left, the boys would go on being as happy as they were now.

  At the same time she worried in case their father ruined everything she had tried to achieve by making them aggressive again.

  At well past half-past eight Mr. Seymour came into the drawing room.

  “I am afraid, Miss Wicke,” he announced, “that his Lordship is likely to be very late indeed.”

  “Why?” asked Peter. “What has happened?”